


Reindeer

by wholocker78218



Series: 25 Days of Christmas [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Christmas fic, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Santa Claus is Real, this kinda got away from me but I love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholocker78218/pseuds/wholocker78218
Summary: Prompt: Reindeer.Rafael writes to Santa as a child and has a magical dream, forty years later it happens again.Terrible summary, but please read, it is fluffy as hell.This is also day 1 of my own personal 25 days of Christmas fics!
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Noah Porter Benson, Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Series: 25 Days of Christmas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036830
Comments: 19
Kudos: 48





	Reindeer

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are open for the next 24 days, I write for Barson, Bangan, Barisi and potentially other Rafael Barba ships (even other Raúl Esparza characters too), just talk to me on asks or private messages on Tumblr @angelicdestieldemon

Rafael Barba’s childhood was not very happy, and abusive father and a mother who refused to speak out, there were many times he went to bed with bruises. His mother would whisper apologies in one ear while telling him to behave in the other. His father would tell him to stop being such a wuss, to grow up already and start acting like a man.

When it came to Christmas, his father would drink more, on good days he would pass out drunk on the couch and leave Rafael and his mother alone. On bad days the beatings would be worse. On those bad nights, Rafael would sit at the desk in his room and write letters to Santa, praying to God every other day of the year didn’t seem to be working so why not try Father Christmas?

* * *

It was almost midnight as nine-year-old Rafael Barba sat in his bed, his ears pricked up, listening for the sound of his father stumbling about. The house, however, was silent as the grave but that meant nothing, it would only take a moment of distraction to get caught awake a long while after his bedtime. So, he listened while scratching words across the page of his most recent letter to Santa.

Other children wished for toys, snow, to stay on the nice list, or to be taken off the naughty list. They prayed for big family dinners, for the parents to spend time with them playing in the snow. Even at nine, Rafael didn’t wish for such things, instead, he asked Santa for his father to stop hitting his mother, to stop hitting him. He asked Santa to convince his mother to get help, to stop covering the bruises his father gave them, and show someone instead. With every wish, he backed it up with arguments and promises to be a good boy for this Mami and Abuela.

He was just about finished when he heard it, the sound of hoofbeats on the roof of their apartment, as quietly as he could, Rafael slipped out of bed and over to the door to the hallway, listening hard against the door his ears strained to hear even the slight sound, but it was quiet. Rafael pushed the door open as much as he could without it creaking and slipped out into the hallway. Padding down the corridor, staying close to the wall where the floorboard creaked the least, he moved quietly towards the living room and that’s when he saw him. A large man in a big red coat and black boots, a bushy white beard and half-moon spectacles resting on a cold-weather-induced red nose. Creeping closer to hide behind the couch, he poked his head up to see a red sack filled with presents, Father Christmas removing some to lay beneath the pitiful excuse for a tree (his father set fire to their last one while drunk).

“It’s rude to stare, you know?” The jolly voice sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room and before he could help himself Rafael jumped up and shushed the man, his eyes wide with fear and the little hairs on his arms and neck jumping up.

“My dear Rafael, your father won’t hear anything I don’t want him to hear,” Santa says while turning to face the boy.

Sure enough, as loud as the man was, his father was still snoring away in his room, his mother too.

“How do you know my name?” Rafael asks, his eyes remain wide with wonder instead of fear, moving around the couch, to get closer to the large man.

“I received your letters of course,” Santa answers.

“I burned my letters,” Rafael asserts.

Santa merely smiles in response. It doesn’t assure Rafael as much as it aggravates him.

“If you got my letters then you’d know I don’t want presents. That’s not why I wished for,” he counters, annoyance lacing his words.

The man in red pauses, looking at the Cuban boy small for his age but mature beyond his years, a boy forced to grow up far too fast. He can see the pain, and sorrow, and tears this boy has experienced and is yet to experience. He wishes he could do what the boys asks but these are things even beyond his control.

Santa walks closer to the boy, his big heart breaking at the flinch when he places his hand on the boy’s bony shoulder.

“My dear boy, I wish I could do as you asked, I really do, but there are things even I cannot do,” he sees the boy’s heart break in his unbelievably bright green eyes. The shine of tears welling up, but he knows the boy has had enough practice of fighting them away.

“Things will get better, this I can promise you; you just need to stay strong for a little while longer,” he reassures, getting down on one knee, drawing the boy in, Rafael reluctant at first but eventually collapses into the large man’s arms.

No tears fall, but he can feel the nine-year-old shaking in his arms, and the pain in his chest increases. Flying across the world in one-night leaves him numb to the passing of time, it occurs as fast or as slowly as he likes, but in this moment, Santa loses track of time completely, he simply waits until the shaking has stopped, and Rafael pulls away.

“I heard hoofbeats, that’s why I came to the living room, was that you Reindeer?” Rafael asks, his voice quiet but straining to sound strong.

Santa smiles and stands, offering a hand to the boy, as soon as their fingers touch, they are suddenly on the roof, and Santa looks to Rafael in time to see the wonder in his eyes as he spots the big red sleigh and the Reindeer who make it fly.

Rafael’s mouth drops open in awe of the Reindeer before him, the size of the antlers making them huge in comparison to him. His fingers itch to run themselves through the soft fur and he feels Santa push him towards the magical animals. He doesn’t resist.

He approaches them slowly, willing himself not to accidentally startle them, but each of them eyes him with no twitches, the one closest to him actually steps closer to him, once he is close enough it bows its head, mindful to avoid hitting him with its antlers and slow him to run his hand across its crown. The fur is softer than he could possibly imagine and the joy he feels warms him. He gives one last pet before moving over to the next Reindeer and the next, taking the time to stroke them softly before saying goodbye and moving on. Rafael can’t spot much of any difference between them until he sees that last one, with its glowing red nose, he knows exactly which one this Reindeer is – Rudolph. Rudolph treats him much the same as the others, allowing Rafael to pet him softly before Rafael backs away.

He turns back to Santa and this time he has a smile to mirror the larger man.

“Thank you, for letting me see them,” Rafael whispers, the gently falling snow resting in his tousled brown hair and long eyelashes, how anyone could hurt such a kind boy Santa will never understand.

Santa offers him a kind smile and nod in return before once again kneeling before him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Stay strong my dear Rafael, and stay kind, you will be happy one day,” he promises, placing his hand over Rafael’s heart, he waits for the boy to nod.

The next thing Rafael remembers is his mother stroking her hand through his hair softly to rouse him from sleep, “Feliz Navidad, cariño.”

* * *

“Uncle Rafa, what should I write to Santa Claus?” Noah asks turning in his favourite uncle’s lap to face him.

Rafael flicks his eyes away from the films rolling credits to give his attention to the boy sitting in his arms, looking up at him with big wide eyes, and for a moment he sees himself when he was a child. But he blinks away the image, Noah isn’t him, Noah is happy and safe with a loving mother who would fight her way through hell to keep him safe and unharmed. He would do anything to prevent this boy from going through even a fraction of what he had to. Then he remembers that night when he was nine, for so long he convinced himself that it was a dream, but it never felt like one. He could feel the snow in his hair and on his face, the soft fur of the reindeer and the warmth from Santa’s hug. There would always be a part of him that believed it was real. Pulling himself from his memories his eyes focus back on Noah.

“That’s up to you, Hijo. What do you want from Santa?” He responds, his voice softening in a way it only does with Noah.

“Mama says I can ask for toys or games, but I have lots of toys, but can I ask for other things too?” He asks, shuffling himself around to cuddle more into Rafael’s chest, subconsciously his arms tighten around the boy, keeping him secure in his lap.

“Hijo, you can ask for whatever you want, it doesn’t need to be toys, you can ask for it to snow, or for your favourite food on Christmas day or even just to be happy. This is your personal wish list to Santa, ask him for whatever your heart desires,” Rafael reassures. “Just maybe not a pet, I think your mother will kill us both if she hears the word puppy one more time this year,” he jokes, making Noah giggle.

In the past week alone, Noah had begged his mother for a puppy at least twelve times, and Rafael could see Olivia’s patience thinning with every ask.

“Okay, thank you, uncle Rafa,” Noah whispers sleepily, his eyelids drooping.

“You’re very welcome, Hijo. Now, I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?” He whispers, trying to keep the boy from waking back up from drowsiness.

He pushes himself off the couch and carries the almost sleeping boy to his bedroom. Tucking him into his toddler bed and switching on the night light. He takes a moment to just watching him cuddle into the warm duvet before dropping a kiss on his forehead with a whispered, “Goodnight, my sweet boy.”

Rafael stands and turns to the doorway to see Olivia standing there, her expression warm, a smile pulling at her lips but even in the dim light he can see how tired she is.

Rafael stands to the side letting her pass to drop a kiss on her son’s head in the same place he left his before taking her hand and pulling her back into the living room. As soon as they are clear of Noah’s room Liv folds herself into his arms, tucking her face into Rafael’s neck and as easy as breathing he wraps his arms around her, holding her close.

“Thank you for being here, for looking after him,” she mouths against his neck, he feels her breath ticking his skin and ear. “I’m sorry I’m so late, I should have called,” Rafael shakes his head in response.

“You know I love spending time with him, we enjoyed ourselves, we had dino nuggets for dinner, and did some drawing, speaking of we might have a little artist on our hands, and then we watched a film after his bath,” Rafael pulls back and cups her face with his hands. “The fact that you trust me with him after everything with Sheila, warms my heart, I love that boy and getting to spend time with him makes me happy, you both make me happy. I will accept no apology,” he finishes.

Liv slaps his chest before her hands smooth their way down to his waist, keeping him close. “Stop it you sap, you’ll make me cry.”

“Happy tears I hope?” Liv merely nods her head in response before kissing him soundly.

When they part, Liv take his hands in hers, “I’m exhausted, take me to bed?”

That needs no verbal response.

* * *

The sound of hoofbeats wake Rafael just before midnight on Christmas Eve, his eyes snap open, his vision partially blocked by Liv’s hair, from where his face is buried in her neck, his arms wrapped around her, warmth radiating from her bare skin pressed against his. Rafael carefully disentangles himself from Olivia and climbs out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt to cover his chest.

Like the last time he pads across the floor to the living room, taking a deep breath before turning the corner and the all the air in his lungs leaves him in one fell swoop. Standing there before the Christmas tree is the same man, he saw all those years ago as a child.

“My dear boy, it is good to see you once again,” the jolly man smiles at him, looking not a day older than the last time Rafael saw him.

“Not that I’m not pleased to see you but why are you here, after all this time?” Rafael asks, getting straight to the point, Santa merely grins and pulls a letter out of his pocket, Rafael’s brow furrow in confusion.

“I received a letter from a boy named Noah Porter Benson, do you know what it says?” Santa asks, and Rafael shakes his head in response.

His mind drifts back to the night Noah asked about what he could write to Santa for, Noah hadn’t mentioned the letter since.

“Noah only asks for one thing and I’m afraid it’s not something I can deliver, but I think you can,” Santa replies, a twinkle in his eye.

Rafael steps closer to the man, his brain working to think of something that Santa Claus himself couldn’t provide. Santa just opens the letter and begins to read, “Dear Mr Santa Claus, I don’t need any new toys for Christmas, all I want this year is for Uncle Rafa to be my daddy, I promise I won’t wish for anything else just please give me a daddy. Love Noah.”

Rafael feels tears in his eyes, but unlike before these are tears of joy, and he lets them fall. Before wiping them away, trying to keep his cool, but the warm happiness inside of him is too much to ignore, the smile on his face unavoidable. Santa walks towards him and is glad when Rafael doesn’t flinch like he did when he was a young boy.

“I asked you to stay strong and to stay kind and you have kept your promise to me, can you promise me one more thing?” The man asks and Rafael already knows what it is but nods anyway. “Be the father I always knew you would be, I know you’ll be the best father Noah could have.”

“How can you know that?” Rafael asks, doubt swirling low in his stomach, the fear of failure making him feel sick.

“Because, my dear Rafael, you already are.”

When Rafael blinks, his eyes open to Olivia sleeping with her head on his chest and Noah lifting the duvet to climb in beside him.

“Merry Christmas, daddy,” Noah whispers before falling back asleep.

“Merry Christmas, mijo.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, I appreciate everyone who reads my work even if you dont leave kudos or comments I appreciate you taking the time. Have a wonderful Christmas however you celebrate (or don't celebrate)!


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